Ever since hip-hop was hijacked by the thugs, the quality of the music has suffered to the point where I mostly ignore it. It lost its originality a long time ago. The only cats that made their ghetto ghost stories palatable were Biggie, Tupac, and Wu Tang. If Tupac, Biggie, and Big Pun hadn’t died, Jay-Z would never have blown up the way he did. There would have been no room for him among those three.